


The Duty of a Duke

by daredevilmoon



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 16:37:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3775780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daredevilmoon/pseuds/daredevilmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It all seemed a curious play on their first meeting, just as tense and wanting.<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Duty of a Duke

It was harder than Philip had anticipated it being - or, at the least, different to what he had expected. There was the knowledge of necessity, of duty - he had come with a plan in mind and full well intended to follow through with it, no question in his mind shadowing the matter until Thomas was actually before him. It seemed all at once as though the year had faded and the air grown rich again with hazy summer, despite the autumnal crispness without the house; they fell into step as quickly as if it had been only a week.

“Are you very particular?” Thomas asked, standing in Philip’s rooms. He looked at Philip from below his lashes. “Your Grace.”

It all seemed a curious play on their first meeting, just as tense and wanting. Now was safer, though with new facets.

“Terribly,” he replied, smirking at him. “I have faith you’ll manage.”

“Have you?” Thomas asked, taking a step closer. Philip’s pulse quickened and he couldn’t help but grin in a sort of nervous relief when Thomas stepped closer still. It seemed the very air around Thomas made the fug of reality dissipate and the thought circled his brain in time with his pulse, What if - what if. His plans, too, were wont to flee from under the weight of such a freedom as this idea, from what Thomas had become more than himself to Philip in the intervening year.

Though the door was slightly ajar, Thomas touched him - pressing the heel of his hand  against Philip’s stomach, low, directly below his navel, and, god, it was summer. The stirrings of arousal were drawn in lines directly from those on Thomas’s hand, which Thomas lingered for only a moment longer before he removed it. He must have read the response on Philip’s face, in his breathing, because he grinned at him.

“Careful,” Philip murmured.

Thomas’s eyes darted to the door briefly, the space between it and the jamb, and he inclined his head slightly behind him, before moving to stand near to the bedside table. Philip had the awful habit of following Thomas’s lead and did so then, too, meeting him for a brief kiss. His lips were as soft as the petals they resembled still; that lingering taste of cigarettes was as strangely intoxicating and, though they didn’t embrace one another entirely for fear of dishevelment, where Thomas’s fingers were on his jaw burned from the longing for it. A sudden jarring war knocked into Philip’s ribs and he pulled away; this was not helping matters.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Your Grace?” Thomas asked, suddenly rather loud. Thomas kissed him again, just, before they broke apart entirely and retired back to near the door.

“I think you have everything,” Philip said, feeling the truth of that rather too keenly.

“Right this way, then,” Thomas said, his face falling into his serving mask with such abruptness that Philip was left vaguely unnerved as he followed Thomas down the hall. “I don’t know for certain, Your Grace, but I think you’re likely to find everything you want at Downton,’ he said, still in that more formal voice but sparing Philip an amused glance. Cheeky bugger.

Philip overtook him down the corridor, stopping for a moment at its end to ensure Thomas was following him - old habits, he supposed.


End file.
